Giving Your Kids Everything Teaches Them Nothing

There is a challenge to raising kids in the world today.

I will be honest, it is something I struggle with as a father.

I grew up with parents who gave me more than they had. While I didn’t get everything I wanted, they provided a comfortable life and set me up for success. They taught me the value of working hard and earning what I achieved.

But when I became a parent, life looked different. I was older. My wife and I already had some level of success—we owned a home, had two good-paying jobs, and could give our kids a life with fewer struggles than we faced.

That is where the challenge hides.

Comfort, while it feels good, can also become a trap. If we aren’t intentional, we end up spoiling our kids without meaning to.

It’s something I have to think about all the time proactively—am I preparing my kids for life, or protecting them from the very struggles that shaped me?

The greatest danger to our kids isn’t struggle—it’s never having to struggle at all.

The Parent Trap

Our first instinct as parents is to give our kids everything we never had—money, comfort, shortcuts, and quick solutions.

It feels like love.

Here is the hard truth: giving them everything often teaches them nothing.

Why?

Because it robs them of the very process that shaped you—the discipline, resourcefulness, and grit that only come from struggle.

Every problem you solved made you sharper.

Every failure you endured made you tougher.

Every discomfort you overcame built the strength you now stand on.

If our kids never experience that, they grow up dependent, not capable.

My Struggle

In my career, I’ve always been a fixer.

If something was broken, I wanted it fixed—and I wanted it fixed fast. Early on, that often meant doing everything myself. It felt quicker and safer to handle it on my own, knowing it was done correctly the first time.

As I grew as a leader, I realized something important: delegation is the ultimate gift you can give your team. By stepping back and letting others take ownership, I gave them the opportunity to grow, to problem-solve, and to stand on their own two feet when I wasn’t around. Their success eventually became my success.

The same principle applies to raising kids.

But here’s the truth—it’s harder. Much harder. As parents, we want to step in, solve the problem, and protect them from failure. Yet I know that, just like with my team, their growth only happens when I resist the urge to “fix” everything and instead give them the space to figure it out themselves.

I have to remind myself constantly: true love is preparing our kids for life, not protecting them from it.

Four Ways to Build Capable Kids

1. Guide Don't Rescue

When your child faces a challenge—whether it’s homework, a disagreement with a friend, or figuring out how to fix something—resist the urge to jump in.

Instead, ask: “What’s your plan?”

This slight shift teaches them to think critically and builds confidence in their ability to solve problems.

I am always asked to fix things for my boys. They are both capable of fixing on their own if I step back and give them time. I have to remind myself that there is no work deadline and that I need to focus instead on my boys, trying to solve things for themselves.

The two things I am consistently asked to fix: Game login problems and fixing fishing poles.

When I ignore and take time, often these problems magically fix themselves. I need to improve my patience and teaching skills, but it's rewarding to see the boys handle fishing on their own.

They are actually both good at saying, "Hey, Dad, I want to try myself."

2. Assign Earned Rewards

Privileges should come with effort. A new gadget, extra screen time, or even staying out later can all be earned through responsibility—chores, school projects, sports, or creative work.

This teaches a lifelong lesson: effort produces results.

In our home, consistency in grades has been a challenge—not because our boys aren’t capable, but because they can be careless when they don’t focus or prepare ahead of time. To encourage consistency, my wife introduced a system: twenty dollars for every “A” on their report card.

I know not every parent will agree with this approach, but for our boys—especially the oldest—it worked. We’ve seen fewer missed assignments and stronger performance on tests and homework.

This year, the stakes are even higher. In his new middle-school class, any “F” means being benched from sports for a week. It’s a built-in lesson in responsibility: your effort in the classroom determines your opportunity on the field.

3. Share Your Struggle Stories

Your kids see the stability you’ve built, but they rarely see the storms that forged it. Tell them the truth. Share the setbacks, the failures, the doubts, and the moments you almost quit.

They need to know success wasn’t handed to you—it was earned through discomfort, discipline, and persistence.

Here’s the reality: this is not as easy as it sounds.

In our home, this lesson often revolves around the boys continuing their Japanese studies.

As I’ve shared before, I lived and worked in Japan for over twenty-two years. My wife is Japanese, and both of our boys were born there. When we moved back to the United States in 2020, they were only four and six.

Since then, it’s been a constant challenge to keep them connected to their language. In Cleveland, it was a battle to get them to attend Japanese school on Saturdays. Now in Wichita, it’s a struggle to keep them consistent with an hour of online Japanese class each week, plus a few sessions of Japanese Kumon.

Like most parents, our fallback line is: “You’ll thank us for this one day.” But I also share my own story. I tell them about the struggles I faced moving to Japan, how my lack of Japanese made life difficult, and how much easier their path will be because they’re learning when they are young.

Sometimes I’ll add a playful twist: “What if you meet a cute Japanese girl like your mom one day and want to talk to her?”

Their predictable response: “Ew, Dad, that’s gross. Girls are yucky.”

Still, we reinforce the value of their effort by taking them back to Japan every other summer.

Every time we go back, the lessons become real: speaking with friends, ordering food in restaurants, even asking for directions. On our last trip, my youngest got sick and had to communicate with the doctor and nurses on his own when my wife wasn’t around to help.

Those moments matter. They see me still struggling with Japanese because I learned it later in life, while they—native speakers—don’t face the same obstacles. It’s a living example of why effort now pays off later.

4. Let Them Fail Small

The earlier kids learn that failure is part of the process, the better. Let them take risks, lose games, and face setbacks while the stakes are low. Small failures now protect them from catastrophic failures later.

As parents, it is our job to protect them, so failures should not set them back for a lifetime.

For Christmas, my oldest got a football kicking machine. Its job was simple: punt the ball back to him. Honestly, I never understood the need for a machine—because as a kid, right after being quarterback, kicking the ball yourself was the next best thing.

The toy required batteries, and the compartment was tricky to open. Typically, as the dad who fixes everything, I would’ve jumped in right away to make sure the toy was ready to go. But this time, I decided to step back and see if he could figure it out.

While I was at work, he tried to set it up and texted me: he had put the batteries in, but the machine wasn’t kicking very far. When I got home, I opened the compartment and immediately saw the problem. He had rigged it with AA batteries instead of C batteries. The amazing part? He had figured out the polarity—the positive and negative sides were correct.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was progress. He had solved part of the problem and learned something new. Now he knows how to change batteries on his own—because he was given the space to try, fail small, and learn.

Conclusion

As parents, our job isn’t to remove obstacles from our kids’ path—it’s to train them to climb.

We can give them everything they want and raise weak adults, or we can give them the tools to fight for themselves and raise warriors.

The choice is ours.

Guide, don’t rescue.

Reward effort, not entitlement.

Tell your stories.

Let them fail.

That’s how we raise capable, resilient, disciplined kids.

That’s how we leave a legacy.

I would love to hear your stories.

The Day Warrior

Hey everyone, first off—thank you so much for being part of this community and loving the content I create. Your views, likes, and comments mean the world to me and keep me motivated to bring you more of what you enjoy. 

If you want to take your support to the next level and help me continue producing high-quality content, check out my exclusive merchandise in The Day Warrior Online Store!

How to find more content from The Day Warrior: https://thedaywarrior.bio.link (this includes links to my newsletter signup, store, and more).

If you enjoyed this newsletter, please subscribe for weekly motivation straight to your inbox.

If you want to have a deeper discussion about this subject, please get in touch with The Day Warrior.

Follow me on X for daily short and long-form content: @thedaywarrior.

My LinkedIn information is here: https://www.linkedin.com/in/the-day-warrior/

I am also on Instagram: @thedaywarrior.

My website is http:/thedaywarrior.com.